


to have a little fun

by walfs



Category: Saiyuki Gaiden
Genre: M/M, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walfs/pseuds/walfs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He probably lost the piercings somewhere and when he was too lazy to replace them, the holes probably closed up. He might reopen them though, if he feels like it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	to have a little fun

**Author's Note:**

> god fucking bless [this translation](http://konnyakuhonyaku.livejournal.com/26593.html)

**ear**

“It’s called an ‘industrial’,” says Tenpou, absently rolling the metal bar that now links both sides of his cartilage. “Also known as a ‘scaffolding’ or ‘construction’ piercing-- most probably because of the resemblance it bears with the beams used in the framework of buildings. It’s really surged in popularity lately.”

“Not what I asked, but sure,” Kenren sighs. “I’ll bite if you’ll sign.”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to be productive today.”

“Also not what I meant, but who says I can’t multitask?” Kenren’s cigarette hisses as he drops it in a half-empty coffee mug, and the chair creaks ominously as Kenren climbs on. The stack of papers he’d had been trying to get finalized for the past hour hit the bare inch of desk not covered in clutter with a wet _slap_ that Kenren instantly kicks himself for. He should know better by now than to underestimate the mess Tenpou’s capable of making.

Tenpou’s arms curl lazily around his waist, caging him in, even as Tenpou bares his new piercing for inspection.

“Who says I _can_?” he hums thoughtfully.

In ten minutes, those Important Documents will be buried beneath a mound of crinkled papers, dog-eared books, and 3-day-old trash; however, Kenren reasons, thanks to the familiar sensation of fingers gliding past his unzipped pants, in ten minutes he’ll be buried himself.

Seems like a fair trade, overall.

 

**tongue**

“There’s no way that’s healed enough,” Kenren protests weakly. His pants are stuck somewhere at his knees, trapping his already shaking thighs, and his breath kicks him hard enough that he almost bends himself to follow as Tenpou gracefully sinks down to the floor. Tenpou’s tongue is still a little swollen, most definitely still a lot sore-- for fuck’s sake, he hasn’t been able to talk right for two days.

Predictably, Tenpou just offers a dismissive half-assed shrug, a simple little _what can you do?_ , and then drags the broad flat of his tongue along the underside of Kenren’s dick. He expects the metal to feel sharp and cold, but Tenpou’s detour tasting every inch above his hips has warmed it, wet it, and Kenren bucks as it firmly traces the ridge of his head.

“Fuck,” Kenren groans, and again when Tenpou teases the slit. “ _Fuck,_ Tenpou--”

“We should, I suppose,” Tenpou mutters against spit-slick skin. “Oral testing would be inconclusive, otherwise.”

A jolt crackles up Kenren’s spine, pulling him taut against the wall as he imagines fingers, tongue, _metal_ spreading him open.

“I thought you couldn’t talk,” he croaks.

“Yes.” Tenpou smiles. “A miracle, isn’t it?”

 

**belly button**

“You have a problem,” Kenren says, though the awe in his voice makes it obvious he considers it’s anything but. Pinned beneath him, laid out in a messy cloud of leather, glasses askew, wayward strands of hair clinging to his face and neck with sweat, Tenpou moans weakly. “ _I_ have a problem.”

“We complement each other well,” he agrees breathlessly. The light glints off the tiny fleck of metal on Tenpou’s belly as it shudders away from Kenren’s probing fingers.

They’re both still grimy and gross from battle, tired from a full day of fighting. They should shower, change, maybe fuck themselves to a nice sleep-- and yet here they are: two idiots in charge of an army, wrestling like kids on a too-small couch.

Maybe not so much like kids, Kenren corrects as he brushes his thumb along the little gem that started it all, still cool to the touch, and Tenpou’s thigh slips neatly between his own.

 

**nipples**

“Two weeks,” Kenren pants through his mouthful, mindful of his teeth even as he sucks and pulls at the thin metal ring hooked through Tenpou’s nipple. “Two _fucking_ weeks. ”

“Ten days, technically,” Tenpou hisses, his fingers raking desperately through Kenren’s unruly hair as he tries to goad him into biting down harder.

“No, that’s worse.”

“Probably.”

The once-healed skin flushes red with every pass of teeth, and the metal feels like it burns as Kenren laps at it. Tenpou rocks against him faster, nails biting in harder, his cock cradled against the crook of Kenren’s hip, and comes with a stuttering groan as Kenren tugs less than gently with his teeth.

He can’t remember why he’s talking about irrelevant shit like time, but it’s probably not important anymore.

...Probably.


End file.
